Soul Resonance
by rapturesrevenge
Summary: -SoulMaka- A series of drabbles and oneshots set to skeithdestroyer's original version of the 100 Theme Challenge on deviantART featuring Soul and Maka. Rated M for content in some - okay, a lot - of the themes.
1. 01: Introduction

**Disclaimer:** I do not own _Soul Eater_ or any of the characters/images/logos/etc. associated with the series. It all belongs to Okubo Atsushi and Square Enix.

* * *

**Theme:** 01, Introduction  
**Wordcount:** 292  
**Rating: **K  
**Warnings:** none  
**Notes:** Compare/contrast for the win.

Soul Eater Evans is the living, breathing definition of "cool." He looks it. He acts it. Because of this, he's developed a reputation for always being the "cool guy" around Shibusen – he's loyal to his friends and comrades, he's honest, and he keeps a cool head most of the time – and he guards it with (almost) unrivaled devotion. Should he ever do or say anything that makes him look even the barest hint of "uncool," he's man enough (therefore cool enough) to admit it. This way, his reputation remains intact, and no one can therefore think less of him. He's not overly concerned with his studies, but he does just enough to get by.

Maka Albarn isn't concerned with being considered cool, and it shows. In spite of her rather short skirt, she dresses very conservatively. She's serious, more than obsessive when it comes to her studies, and definitely not the sort of girl who would attract the attention of the opposite sex (the latter points being the cause of a lot of teasing from Soul). Her reputation as the smartest girl in the school is well-deserved, though it often leads to her peers (particularly Soul) calling her a bookworm. Some even call her a teacher's pet. She's more prone to fits of immaturity and temper, but she, too, is loyal to her friends and comrades, and it hurts her deeply when her trust in someone is betrayed or when someone she cares for is hurt.

To an outsider looking in, it's hard to imagine these two ever getting along, yet they do. They're best friends, partners…and more. They just don't look it.


	2. 02: Love

**Theme:** 02, Love  
**Wordcount:** 733  
**Rating:** T  
**Warnings:** Valentine's Day bashing and minor teenage delinquency.  
**Notes:** I can't really see Soul or Maka particularly enjoying Valentine's Day...which kicks ass cuz I hate it. XD

The halls of Shibusen were annoyingly…_pink._

It wasn't Breast Cancer Awareness month – that was back in October – and as far as anyone knew, no baby girls with connections to Shibusen had been born in the last twenty-four hours – and yes, Shinigami-sama would decorate Shibusen with everything pink to celebrate the birth of a baby girl. With no other obvious reasons for Shibusen to be so…_feminine_…it meant that today was the one day every guy and single person on the planet dreads most.

Valentine's Day.

"This is _so_ uncool," Soul muttered as he sank into his seat. It wasn't that he hated the day, as he saw it as just another date on the calendar, he just hated what it represented. He didn't have to look around the classroom to know that insanity had practically infected everyone. Though most of the guys were pretty good about keeping their cool, some of them (namely Ox) tended to lose it just a little. Black*Star, who never kept a cool head, was always more annoying on Valentine's Day, what with his yearly declaration that everyone profess their love for him, their god and all that nonsensical gibberish and jabberwocky. But the guys and Black*Star were tame compared to the female population. All the girls – even girls as cool as Liz and Tsubaki – were acting weird, as if every last one of them had suddenly synced and started their period. If they weren't overly emotional, they were downright bitchy, and one didn't have to actually be female or a genius (or both, like Maka) to figure out why.

And at the thought of his meister – who just so happened to be female _and_ a damn genius – Soul tensed, waiting for a hardbound book of some sort to make sudden and painful contact with his skull. Okay, he _knew_ it wouldn't happen, because he knew how Maka felt about Valentine's Day, but after all this time being Maka's weapon, it had become a reflex action.

When the dreaded book didn't come flying at him, Soul allowed himself to relax, and he glanced at his meister from the corner of his eye. He didn't laugh, as that would've resulted in an automatic trip to the infirmary with a concussion, but he did smirk. Hunched over the huge tome of a textbook, both hands covering her ears, Maka looked positively miserable. She had her reasons for hating Valentine's Day – the main reason being the horribly annoying man talking to Dr. Stein – and if not for her devotion to her studies, Soul was positive she would've holed herself up in her room so she wouldn't have to face the day.

If she _had_, Soul wouldn't have argued. He would've been happy to stay home and avoid the plague of idiocy.

Suddenly, his smirk changed from that of amusement to one of utter deviousness. Carefully, so as not to attract attention (not that their classmates were noticing much, anyway) or scare Maka half to death, he nudged her with his elbow, watching her in his peripheral vision. When she looked over at him, annoyance written clearly into her features, he leaned over. "When Spirit leaves and Stein starts taking roll, act like you've got a migraine or something."

Her expression was dubious, possibly even slightly offended, but she nodded anyway.

They got lucky; Stein might not have bought the act, but he let them go – Soul was also excused when Maka said something about feeling dizzy – and never said anything about checking on them in the infirmary later. Once out in the hall, they turned in the direction of the infirmary, only to take a detour down the next hallway and slip out the nearest door. They walked along in silence most of the way home until, just as they reached their street, Maka slipped her hand into his.

He looked at her then, a soft half-smile appearing on his face, while a small, but full and genuine smile appeared on hers. Cards and candy and meaningless words just didn't do it for them.


	3. 03: Light

**Theme:** 03, Light  
**Wordcount:** 962  
**Rating:** K+  
**Warnings:** none  
**Notes:** Credit for the idea goes to Regent Shaw, who is all sorts of awesome.

The smooth, fluid sound of jazz wafted through the air, loud enough to be heard, soft enough to tease their ears, but Soul wasn't having any of it. He walked over to the phonograph and lifted the needle from the record, a heavy silence falling over the black room in its wake. In many ways, it was disconcerting how calm and quiet it could be in Soul's heart – they were fighting, they were using soul resonance, which meant Soul was fighting with himself and working twice as hard so that _she _wouldn't fall victim to the insanity. Even though she could use an anti-insanity wavelength and he was slowly mastering the effects of the black blood, he still doubled his efforts to protect her.

At the same time, slightly disturbing as it was, it was soothing, even with that creepy little imp always running around.

Thoughts regarding said creepy little imp aside, Maka watched Soul from her perch on the piano bench, wondering what would prompt him to turn the music off. He usually ignored it, so his actions left her feeling slightly confused. "Soul?"

He turned away from the phonograph then, glancing at the imp with a sardonic smirk on his face before looking at her, his expression softening a little when his crimson eyes finally rested on her. "Distractions aren't cool. You of all people should know that." His voice carried just a hint of laughter; he was teasing her again. While that was normal for him, it left her feeling even more confused than before. What was he being distracted from?

She swallowed nervously as he set the record aside and returned to her. Just as Soul's actions and the mysterious reasons behind those actions confused her, her sudden and irrational nervousness annoyed her. This was _Soul_, for crying out loud. This was her best friend, her weapon, her roommate…the self-proclaimed coolest guy in existence (though he had good reason to think himself as such). Still, she was unnerved, and she didn't like it.

His fingers, warm and slightly calloused from the years he'd spent playing the piano, traced her jaw and neck as he walked behind her to the other side of the piano bench. The simple touch, laced with more than Soul would ever say with words, sent shivers up and down her spine. In that instant, her nervousness disappeared, and she turned to watch him take his place beside her with a soft smile upon her face. It seemed that there would be no lesson this time. He would've remained standing behind her if that had been the case. "You're going to play this time?" she asked, her curiosity giving a slight edge to her otherwise quiet tone. She hoped he wouldn't tease her with her more-than-obvious desire to hear him play, give her a rare "yes," and play something complex and beautiful that she _knew_ he knew by heart.

Soul chuckled lightly, lacing his fingers together and bending his arms out, palms facing the piano. He didn't crack his knuckles, as that would be conforming to a stereotype, and stereotypes weren't something that sat very well with him. He just stretched his fingers a little before resting them lightly on the keys. "Maybe I am," he murmured, that teasing note still present in his tone. He glanced at her quickly, cracked his typical, sharp-toothed grin, and began to play.

It wasn't like the song he played when they first met. No. Through the strong, unwavering, but melancholy tone in the bassline he established with his left hand, there was a lighter, brighter sound that wove around the deeper notes, rising and falling with every crescendo and decrescendo, sometimes gently, other times erratic and violent. She could hear the give and the take between the contrasting clefs, the way they supported one another while maintaining their own individuality. It was just like…

Maka gasped and looked at him in surprise. Without stopping or faltering or losing his way, Soul laughed and gave her a genuine, gentle, affectionate smile, not one of his bared-toothed grins or his lazy half-smiles or a sarcastic smirk. "Yeah…it's us," he said, careful to keep his voice from disrupting the music. "This is me," he murmured just in time for a slight crescendo in the darker-sounding bass, "and this is you." The fingers of his right hand practically danced across the keys on that side of the piano in response, producing the lighter melody.

She thought it over, his interpretation of their respective selves, and shook her head. "I think you're a little off," she said, laughing a little. "Both parts fit both of us."

Soul frowned slightly before his affectionate smile returned. "Yeah, you're right." He slowed his tempo gradually – _poco a poco,_ she remembered – and brought the song to a close. When he finished, he turned to her, leaning over just enough to brush his lips against hers. Maka didn't let herself think twice and kissed him back, keeping things slow, ever mindful of there being a time and place for everything, and the black room in Soul's heart in the midst of a fight _wasn't_ such a time or place.

But in a far corner of her mind, she allowed herself a tiny smile. He'd always been the one she could count on. It reassured her, knowing that she was the one he counted on as well, his light in the gathering darkness.


	4. 04: Dark

**Theme:** 04, Dark  
**Wordcount:** 893  
**Rating:** T  
**Warnings:** none  
**Notes:** I have no idea where this came from, to be honest.

Crimson eyes flickered open and drifted to glance at the clock on the nightstand. The glowing yellow-green numbers on the display read, "2:34 a.m.," and Soul grumbled in blatant irritation. Why would he be waking up on his own at _this _hour? He didn't have to use the bathroom, and the only ones with missions this week were Ox and Harvar, Kilik and the pots, Black*Star and Tsubaki, and Kid and the girls. Shinigami-sama had his bases covered and put Soul and Maka in reserve with orders to be ready in case something came up. Three days into the week, and so far it seemed that it would be very quiet and full of sleep. Except, something had disturbed Soul's sleep, and he was neither sure why, nor very pleased.

Rolling over with the intent of pulling Maka close and falling back to sleep with her in his arms, he quickly discovered why he'd woken up: Maka wasn't there.

He could've tried going back to sleep while waiting for her to come back, as she was probably just using the bathroom, but previous experience told him it would be a wasted effort. Maka's nighttime disappearances to the bathroom were never long enough to wake him with her absence. So he kicked off the blankets and stalked into the hall, first noticing that her bedroom door was open and the room was empty, immediately changing course and heading to the kitchen when he saw that one of the lights was on. What would she be doing in there at this hour?

She was standing at the sink, the backs of her hips resting against the edge of the counter. In her hands, she held a steaming mug of something – spiced cider or tea of some kind, Soul guessed – and she was staring at the mug's contents with an intensity he only saw when she was depressed about something.

Furrowing his brow in concern, Soul cautiously approached her. "Maka?"

Maka jumped slightly, not enough to splash her boiling-hot drink on her hands, but still enough to disturb the liquid. "S-sorry…" she stammered, not quite recovered from the surprise. "Did I wake you?"

Soul shook his head and walked over to her, taking her drink from her hands when he came to a stop in front of her. He set the mug – which did indeed contain spiced cider – on the counter to prevent spillage and then wrapped his arms around Maka protectively, resting his cheek against the side of her head when she hid her face against his shoulder. "Only when you didn't come back…what's wrong?" He rubbed her back soothingly, hoping it was something he could help with – nightmares, for instance – and that whatever it was didn't concern him in a bad way. He hated the helpless feeling he got when something upset her and he couldn't help. Worse than that, he hated the feeling he got when _he_ was the one to upset her. It was like a bottomless pit of helplessness, failure, regret and self-hatred. It just wasn't cool to upset his partner.

The shaky breath Maka took when she closed her arms around his shoulders scared him a little, making him think it was bad enough to make her cry. He hated it when girls cried _period,_ but it was always so much worse when Maka cried because, as emotional as she was, she so rarely ever did. "I just feel like we're being put out to pasture," she murmured, and Soul could hear a mix of worry, frustration, and something he couldn't quite put his finger on in her voice. "I don't want to sit around doing nothing for a week," she added, sounding closer to tears now than before.

Soul turned his head just enough to kiss Maka's temple as he ran his fingers through her hair. "We're not being put out to pasture, idiot. Look at me," he nuzzled her ear, offering a little physical encouragement to his words, and when she finally looked at him, he smiled reassuringly. "They're just giving us a break, that's all." He then poked her stomach lightly, kissing her forehead when, at long last, Maka giggled a little, the sound reassuring him that her depression wasn't as bad as he originally thought. "Besides, you've been stretching yourself thin. You haven't been eating or sleeping like you normally do." He released her, nudging her in the direction of their bedrooms. "Come on, let's go back to sleep. I'll keep the monsters away."

Maka raised herself up on tip-toe and kissed him softly. "You're good at that."

He couldn't help snorting, his eyes suddenly taking on an ornery gleam. "There's a lot I'm good at," he murmured, smirking.

Laughing, she shoved him and headed off into the darkened hallway toward his room. "Turn off the light over the sink, Soul."

Soul shook his head, chuckling, and did as she said. Flicking the switch, he followed along behind with quiet steps. "Yes, my meister."


	5. 05: Seeking Solace

**Theme:** 05, Seeking Solace  
**Wordcount:** 971  
**Rating:** K+  
**Warnings:** none  
**Notes:** Soul needs reassurance, too.

By the time their forty-five-minute recess for lunch rolled around, Maka was positive that something was troubling her partner. When they left for school that morning, she'd noticed he was being unusually subdued, which she hesitantly attributed to his being sleepy, and hoped that he would perk up a little as the morning wore on. He didn't. If anything, he just got worse. The customary greeting he shared with Black*Star wasn't as energetic, his interactions with Kid, the girls, and Tsubaki more formal. As for the way he was acting with her, it was as if he were trying his best to avoid her. Maka was more than a little unnerved. This wasn't like him at all.

It was at Kid's suggestion that she dragged him out into the schoolyard to eat. It seemed that she wasn't the only one worried about the coolest guy in all Shibusen. Setting her food down on the bench they'd found, she turned to face him. "Alright, what's wrong?" Her expression was firm, but her tone betrayed her concern. Was the black blood bothering him? Was it something _she_ said? What was it?

For the first time all day, Soul's expression changed. He stared at her in surprise, as if he either hadn't expected her to notice, or as if he hadn't realized he'd been acting out of character – or both. "What? Nothing's wrong." He seemed to realize he hadn't touched his food yet and took a huge bite out of his sandwich. "You don't need to worry about it." His voice, usually calm and impossibly confident, sounded uncertain and distant. It took a lot to shake him up like this, Maka knew; it had been a long time since she'd seen him act like this.

Maka's hand shot out and she grabbed a fistful of his hair, forcing him to look at her while also making him wince in pain. Despite the twinge of regret she felt for causing him pain when he was hurting from something else, she didn't loosen her hold on his snowy locks. "Soul, something's wrong." Finally, she relaxed her grip on his hair, letting her hand drift downward until she cupped his cheek gently, her expression softening in the process. "You've been really quiet all day, and it's scaring me. Tell me? Please?" She watched him, her eyes pleading with him to open up and tell her what was wrong. Deep down, she hoped she wouldn't have to use Soul's words against him – he was always the one telling her she'd feel better if she talked about whatever was bothering her. She really didn't want to be the one to tell him he was being a hypocrite.

It took Soul a few minutes to figure out how he was going to put what was bothering him into words, but Maka couldn't tell if he was actually going to tell her or if he was going to avoid the subject altogether. His expression – a mixture of concentration and annoyance – was one she saw only when he was thinking, so she knew the gears were turning. She just didn't know which ones.

She was about to give up when Soul finally spoke. "I'm going to sound really uncool, saying this, but…" he sighed, averting his gaze to a point on the ground behind her before continuing, "sometimes, I feel like I'm not good enough for you." He looked at her again and cringed. "I feel like I'm holding you back."

Several long moments of silence passed between them. Maka stared at Soul in blatant shock. Sure, he could be a jerk, he could be lazy, and he could be insufferable, but he was also her roommate, her best friend, and, most importantly, he was her partner. They'd been to hell and back more times than she could remember. That had to count for something, didn't it? After all they'd been through, he was afraid that she didn't want him around?

Were it not for the fact that it was obviously serious enough to make _Soul_ of all people nervous and insecure, Maka might've found the very idea laughable. She didn't find it very funny, though, and all but tackled him. "You idiot," she scolded, her voice muffled by his jacket, "you're the only one good enough for me." She tightened her arms around his neck, hoping he'd realize she meant what she said and that she was never going to let him go.

He stiffened a little in surprise, probably having expected to get nailed in the head with a book, but he recovered quickly and hugged her as tightly as he could without crushing her. He nuzzled her ear to reassure them both and gently kissed the side of her head. "I'm sorry, Maka," he murmured. After a moment, he snorted. "I'm so uncool."

Maka laughed in spite of herself. "No, you're still cool. You just don't think."

Soul chuckled quietly against her ear. "And you always kick my ass for it." He leaned back a little to look at her, his characteristic sharp-toothed grin finally appearing on his face. "Thanks, Maka."

Maka smiled and shook her head, leaning in to kiss him suddenly. "You're always there for me. I should be there for you, too."

This time, Soul shook his head. "You always are," he whispered, pulling her into another tight hug. And Maka let him.


	6. 06: Breaking Away

**Theme:** 06, Breaking Away  
**Wordcount:** 249  
**Rating:** M  
**Warnings:** adult themes/situations, sexual content  
**Notes:** Maka's a different person behind closed doors.

No one else saw this side of her. No one else needed to.

Hands that wielded him with strength and confidence trembled in uncertainty as they caressed his skin. Her own skin, normally shielded from the eyes of others, was stripped bare and shivered under his gentle touch. The girl she was outside the bedroom remained, but largely hid in the shadows, all but replaced by a quieter, more submissive version of herself that neither of them had expected. This side was shy and unsure. She blushed darker and darker as he removed each piece of her clothing and tried to cover herself when her bra finally came off. She whimpered pitifully when he denied her something and moaned when he touched her a certain way. He loved every bit of it, especially the way she moved whenever he touched and teased her with his mouth and hands.

"Stay," she whimpered beneath him, her voice tiny and so soft he could barely hear her over his heavy breathing. He nodded and carefully rolled them over so that she was laying over him and he was still sheathed inside her. She moaned softly, and he resisted the urge to rock his hips. If she wanted to go another round, she'd let him know. Until then, he was content to just hold her and keep this side of her, the side she only allowed him to see, safe from the rest of the world.


	7. 07: Heaven

**Theme:** 07, Heaven  
**Wordcount:** 1132  
**Rating:** T  
**Warnings:** some swearing and Tom Cruise bashing  
**Notes:** Snuggling on the couch while watching a movie is definitely the way to go after a mission.

They were soaked to the bone by the time they finally crossed the threshold into their apartment. Quickly, so as to avoid catching chills, they sprinted to their bedrooms to change out of their soggy clothing, then to the bathroom to grab towels and dry their hair. Soul pulled a Modest Mouse hoodie on over the long-sleeved shirt he found in his basket of clean laundry – which he still had yet to fold and put away – and, with his towel still draped over his head, he darted back out into hallway to crank the heat up, holding his sweatpants up with his other hand.

"You know they're going to yell about the gas bill," Maka chided as she came out of her room, her own towel wrapped around her head like a turban. Soul merely glanced at her while he fiddled with the thermostat. The apartment was a comfy seventy-five degrees on the Fahrenheit scale, but given that they'd just been caught in a cold autumn rain shower, Soul felt that was hardly warm enough and bumped it up to eighty. He'd turn the heat down after a couple hours, once he and Maka were nice and warm.

Maka rolled her eyes and continued on her way to the kitchen to make two huge mugs of spiced cider. She didn't feel like waiting for the kettle, so she filled two mugs with water from the tap and put one – Soul's mug – in the microwave for two minutes. When his mug of water was done, she took it out and put hers in for the same amount of time. After mixing the powdered drink mix in with the water in both mugs, she carefully carried their drinks into the living room and set them on the coffee table, then took her seat on the couch next to Soul. "Where did you find the throws?" she asked, burrowing under the warm fleece blanket he wrapped around her.

Soul grunted. "In the linen closet. I guess we put them in there instead of in the front closet like we normally do." He leaned forward, keeping his own throw blanket wrapped snuggly about his shoulders, and picked up his mug of cider. After a few careful sips, he took a huge swig and set his mug down, humming softly in appreciation. As he leaned back, Soul picked up the remote and turned the TV on, flipping through the myriad of channels in an attempt to find something decent that they both liked. At this hour, he knew Maka wouldn't exactly enjoy anything on Spike, and he really wasn't in the mood for TruTV tonight. _CSI_ and _NCIS_ were reruns he'd seen a hundred times before, as were the episodes of _Law & Order _and _JAG. _They'd missed the new episodes of _Time Warp _and _Mythbusters_, too. That being the case, he hit the "guide" button and perused the hundreds of movie channels. For Maka's sake, he avoided looking for a scary movie – the last time they watched a scary movie together, the poor girl had nightmares – and for the sake of his sanity, he stayed away from the chick flicks, as there were very few he tolerated. Disney, he could stomach, but it seemed that none of the _good _Disney movies were on.

He was just about to move on to another movie when Maka sat up sharply. "Wait!" she fairly shrieked, and snatched the remote from his hands. She highlighted the previous selection and hit the "info" button to get the details of whatever it was that caught her attention. Soul held his position, stunned by her sudden outburst. He only moved when she squeaked excitedly and shook his arm. "This is the movie I went to see with Tsubaki, Liz and Patty," she explained. "It's about a group that tried to assassinate Hitler and nearly succeeded."

Curious, Soul nodded, but he made a face all the same when he read the credits. "Tom Cruise is in it," he grumbled.

Maka shook her head. She looked so serious, one would think they were on another mission. "He's actually good in this one, and there are a lot of other big actors in it. C'mon, Soul," she pleaded. "Give it a chance, please?"

Even though he _knew_ looking at her would be his downfall, Soul glanced over at her. Sure enough, she was giving him the cutest possible look known to man, complete with the wide green eyes and the adorable near-pout she was known to give him, and, unable to resist, he sighed. "Fine."

Smiling happily, Maka hit "select," turned up the volume a little, and snuggled against him while they waited for the movie to come on. Though he still felt skeptical, Soul had to admit being a little curious. Maka disliked Tom Cruise as much as he did – or maybe more, given the bastard's remarks regarding women – and for her to say he was actually _good_ in a movie was saying something. He also liked war movies, and though he rarely admitted it, he did like movies with historical basis. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad, after all.

The instant he heard the recording of hundreds of Nazi soldiers reciting the oath, Soul's attention was completely on the movie. His eyebrows rose upon seeing Bill Nighy, Tom Wilkenson, and Kevin McNally in the cast – "You weren't kidding," he muttered to Maka after adjusting their positions so that he was laying on the couch with Maka nestled between his legs and laying back against his chest. The fact that this was all based on a true story despite containing the usual Hollywood drama absolutely boggled his mind.

No wonder Maka was so adamant that they watch it. It really was good.

"Damn," he murmured when the movie ended, "that was cool."

Maka grinned triumphantly at him, her eyes flashing in spite of the obvious look of fatigue on her face. "Told you." She snuggled back against him, and Soul watched her eyes flutter shut. "I'm glad you liked it, Soul."

Tucking the throws more snugly around them and flicking off the TV, Soul offered a soft smile as he brushed her hair from her face. "Me too," he whispered, tightening his arms around her. Within seconds, he, too, was lulled to sleep by the steady pitter-patter of the rain against the window and the warmth of the girl in his arms.


	8. 08: Innocence

**Theme:** 08, Innocence  
**Wordcount:** 512  
**Rating:** T  
**Warnings:** none  
**Notes:** We all know how Maka feels like she has something to prove…

This was getting old.

She was sick of her father acting over protective, of Soul's sarcastic responses, of her father's lewd comments in response to Soul's sarcasm. She was sick of Black*Star's much-too-obvious amusement in regards to situations like this. She was sick of these situations, _period._ She was sick of everyone assuming she was as innocent as she looked and teasing her for it. It was _especially_ infuriating when Soul himself knew as well as she did that she was _far_ from innocent.

Maka decided right then and there that _Soul_ would be the one to put up with the cajoling, the teasing, and the smartass remarks.

Before he could react or protest, she grabbed his shirt collar and pulled him in, crushing her lips against his. In front of _everyone_ – Shinigami-sama, Papa, Stein-hakase, Marie-sensei, Sid-sensei, Nygus-sensei, Black*Star and Tsubaki, Kid, Liz and Patty, Ox and Harvar, Kilik and the pots, and Jackie and Kim – she kissed him the way she did when they were alone.

The teasing stopped. So did the smartass remarks and lewd comments. In fact, _everyone_ went completely and utterly _silent._

Just when Soul relaxed and started to get into it, Maka broke the kiss and walked away without looking back. No one saw the self-satisfied, triumphant smirk on her face, nor the way it broadened into a dazed, goofy grin for the briefest of seconds before she schooled her expression into her typical serious frown. She knew Soul didn't have to see to know what expressions she wore. He knew her well enough by now that he could read her like the proverbial open book. She also knew that he knew better than to chase after her, not after making her point in such dramatic fashion. He would allow her this small, but important victory, and for that, she was grateful.

As she wandered the halls, Maka almost felt like skipping. At long last, she'd broken the rules a little, defeating the monster that was assumption. Innocence had taken its last breath and faded away.

"Hey," a familiar voice said behind her. She turned to see Soul grinning at her from the windowsill he was perched on. "Been wonderin' when you were gonna tell 'em off."

She rolled her eyes, but flashed her own grin nonetheless. "Are you complaining?"

Her partner chuckled, his crimson eyes glowing in the sunlight. "Not in the least," he said as he stalked up to her. When he came to a stop well within her personal space, he reached up and gently tugged at one of her pigtails, making her giggle. "Let's give 'em something else to be speechless about." He smirked and raised an eyebrow suggestively, his intentions blatantly clear.

Maka wasn't going to stand for it.

"Maka-chop!"

"Dammit, Maka!"


	9. 09: Drive

**Theme:** 09, Drive  
**Wordcount:** 521  
**Rating:** T  
**Warnings:** none  
**Notes:** The freedom of the open road isn't just for tough-as-nails biker dudes…and this theme totally reminded me of Anberlin's song "Autobahn."

Riding around with Soul was a thrill. It wasn't like fighting kishin or kicking Arachnie's ass or defeating Gopher. No. It was exciting in a completely different way. There was something about the open road, the wind in her hair, and the adrenaline rush she got when he decided to really put his motorcycle through its paces and go over the speed limit when the road was clear. There was something else, though, too, something about it being just the two of them. It was like they were being rebellious without actually breaking any rules or defying their parents' expectations, and as for it being just the two of them, it sent shivers up and down her spine. She wasn't sure what was so significant about these shivers – the fact that they were actually _alone_ and could (literally) do whatever they wanted was the most obvious reason for these shivers – but Maka didn't care. She loved it.

They were on their spring holiday, one of the few times out of the year they didn't have any missions for a full week or better, and damned if they didn't take advantage of it. Soul's idea of a vacation wasn't exactly the beach or anything stereotypical like that – and it should be noted that Soul _despises _stereotypes – it was a few days on the motorcycle, going wherever the road took them. They'd gone as far as El Paso once, stopping only for food, pit stops and gas.

This time, though, they'd gone northwest, and were somewhere just inside the Oregon state border at the first McDonald's they saw a sign for. They had another two hours at the most before they reached Portland, where they would stay for a couple days before turning around to head home. Thirteen hours into their random road trip and they were both ready to call it a night. At the same time, though, Maka didn't want to stop. She wanted to keep going, as selfish as it was to wish for something like that.

The sun was setting outside the ceiling-high window they were seated next to. Soon, it would be dark, and Soul would have to drive carefully. They had to finish their impromptu and extremely unhealthy dinner and leave.

"You ready?" Soul asked around his last mouthful of the Big Mac he'd ordered. It seemed that he, too, was thinking along the lines of getting back on the road.

Maka nodded, popping the last bite of her last barbeque sauce-covered McNugget in her mouth. As she stood, she washed it down with a large gulp of her Sprite. "Yeah," she said, shouldering her bag. "I'm ready."

Soul stood, finishing his drink as he did so, and grunted softly. "Let's go, then."

_Drive to dream, to live. We could see the world tonight…and we're miles from the middle of nowhere, and neither of us seems to care…_


	10. 10: Breathe Again

**Theme:** 10, Breathe Again  
**Wordcount:** 524  
**Rating:** T  
**Warnings:** none, unless teenagers sleeping together should be something I should everyone warn about.  
**Notes:** His breathing is the only constant in her life.

Nothing came close to scaring her as badly as he'd scared her when he was unconscious and barely breathing after Ragnarok ripped through his chest, nearly killing him. Even now, so many months after the incident, it would catch her off-guard every now and then and she would relive every second of it. The coppery smell of his blood as it flowed from the gaping wound in his flesh would fill her nostrils and make her feel like throwing up. Her skin would crawl as she felt it soak into her clothing and skin, warm, sticky and wet. And then she would panic, suddenly and irrationally (or maybe not irrationally) afraid that every breath would be his last, and that he would abandon her.

And so she watched him breathe tonight, her eyes locked on his lean, but muscular – _scarred_ – chest as it rose and fell with every breath he took. Though she was slowly calming down and regaining her self-control, she couldn't help praying for him to breathe again, to keep breathing, because – _Dammit, Soul!_ – she didn't want to lose him. Every soft exhalation reassured her that _yes,_ he was okay and _no,_ he wasn't going to leave her. In a world of uncertainty and insanity, his breathing was a constant, and that was the greatest comfort of all, more than his antics or his voice or even the way his arms would close around her when he held her. All she wanted was for him to keep breathing, otherwise he wouldn't be able to stay.

He finally stirred, as if sensing the distressed wavelength she was radiating, and rolled over to wrap her up tightly in his arms. "It's okay…" he murmured sleepily. "Go back to sleep, Maka." He nuzzled her face, gently kissing her forehead, her cheeks, her nose, and then her lips before tucking her securely against him. He wasn't even half-awake, but he wasn't going to give in and fall back into the deep, dreamless slumber her panicked state had roused him from. He would fight it off until he knew she herself had returned to dreamland, preferably a region that wouldn't give her nightmares.

She nuzzled his scar, fighting the tears that threatened to spill whenever she had moments like this, and clung to him just as tightly as he held her. His slow, deep, steady breathing filled the room, reassuring her, calming her, and slowly, ever so slowly, lulling her to sleep. A few tears always escaped, along with a few silent sobs that wracked her tiny frame, but as always, they slowed and eventually stopped as she finally gave in to her body's demands and slipped into sweet unconsciousness in the confort of his arms. And this time, her dreams – if she was dreaming at all, now – were pleasant, rather than terrifying.

To the soft, content sound of her breathing, he would drift back to sleep, reassured that she was safe, that he had protected her once again.

* * *

**  
29 Oct 2009**

My apologies for not updating in forever, guys. Hopefully these four installments I've just posted will make up for my lack of activity around here. Happy Halloween!


	11. 11: Memory

**Theme:** 11, Memory  
**Wordcount:** 647  
**Rating:** M  
**Warnings:** hormonal teenagers, sexual content  
**Notes:** Soul remembers an incident that happened after he moved in.

He was slightly uneasy as she tugged on his hand, guiding him into the bathroom. He figured most guys would be nervous about following their girlfriends into the shower, given that most teenagers still lived with their parents. Yeah, he was a little worried that her mother would unexpectedly come home and catch them in the act, and he made a point to keep his guard up in the event Blair or even Spirit came in, but that was all beside the point. Part of the point was, they weren't typical teenagers by any stretch of the imagination, even if he wasn't a weapon and she wasn't a meister. They were minors and they lived on their own. They really didn't have to worry about her parents coming home from work, nor did they have to worry about his family randomly showing up. That wasn't normal under any circumstances whatsoever, but then again, what _was_ normal anymore? He didn't know.

The other part of the point was that he was a little nervous because the last time he happened to occupy the bathroom with her, it had only been for a few seconds, and quite by accident. It had been when they were still strangers to one another, not long after he moved in. They'd both needed showers after their first day of training together, so he did the gentlemanly thing and let her go first, then hid himself away in his room. While he waited, he listened to his records, almost wishing he could play some of the tunes on his piano. In the end, he zoned out and forgot to listen for the water to shut off and the bathroom door to open, signaling his turn.

He sat up after a while, thinking the bathroom was unoccupied. That had been his first mistake. His second was fetching a washcloth and a towel from the linen closet outside the bathroom and mindlessly opening the door. Despite this incident taking place several months before he started to feel any sort of attraction for his partner, he couldn't help reacting to the sight of her naked body. He _was_ a hormonal teenage boy, after all. He was lucky that he was still clothed and that his towel hid his crotch from her, otherwise he might've been castrated in addition to being chopped repeatedly until he'd retreated to the safety of his room.

The incident forced him to begrudgingly admit – to himself, at least – that though she wasn't exactly well-endowed, she did have a nice chest. It also boosted his male ego, if only slightly, because he was now the first and only guy to have seen the prudish bookworm known as Maka Albarn naked. That in and of itself was one hell of an accomplishment, given what he'd seen for himself and what he'd heard about her from other students. It wasn't his thing to listen to gossip, but one can't help overhearing bits and pieces of others' conversations, especially when the subject matter is one's meister.

"I'm not going to hit you this time, Soul," she said suddenly, forcing the memory away and bringing him back to the present. He shook his head and looked over, noticing that she was already in the shower and the water was running. He knew he was staring. Maka was blushing a little under his gaze, seemingly uncomfortable. That confused him, because he'd seen her naked quite a bit since they'd gotten together. Why would she be embarrassed now?

At the same time, however, he wasn't too concerned. As he shed his clothes and stepped into the shower with her, he smiled reassuringly. "I know."


	12. 12: Insanity

**Theme:** 12, Insanity  
**Wordcount:** 943  
**Rating:** T  
**Warnings:** none  
**Notes:** A little bit of emo and a hell of a lot of cute.

It was one of those nights. No matter what she did, no matter what Soul did to help, Maka just _couldn't_ fall asleep. Her body was so tired, but her mind was wide awake, racing from thought to thought, from worry to worry, so on and so forth. And because she couldn't fall asleep, neither could Soul. He refused to let himself sleep when something bothered her so much that she ended up staying up all night. So he held her close, nuzzling the back of her neck while he hummed something slow and soothing in an attempt to lull her to sleep.

The sad thing was that they both knew his efforts were in vain tonight. The whole situation always made her feel horrible, seeing as she was keeping Soul up, but this time, she felt like crying. Even so, she appreciated what he was doing – or trying to do, at least – and despite how she felt and what she thought, Soul really didn't mind staying up all night with her. They would just call Dr. Stein, he told her, and inform him that they wouldn't be able to make it and finally – hopefully – fall asleep. They'd done it before when they were still students, before they'd finally graduated. It was nothing new. No one would kick up a fuss over it, Spirit being the lone exception.

She raised her eyes to look at the clock on his nightstand, fighting the urge to cry when she read, "3:42 AM" on the digital display.

The lean, but muscular arms around her tightened slightly. "It's okay," Soul murmured quietly, pressing gentle kisses to her neck. His quiet, loving reassurance helped soothe her, and she sighed softly as she began to relax – not enough to finally fall asleep, but enough to allow herself to be comforted. In all honesty, it wasn't okay. She was keeping him awake when he needed to sleep, and she needed some rest as well. It was almost a repeat of those first weeks after he received the injury he now wore in the form of the scar across his front, except…this time it was different.

"You know," he mused, his sleepy voice breaking the silence, "it's not cool to hide things from your partner."

He used "partner" instead of the other adjectives that described him in some way or other, as he felt none described him as accurately. He was more than her weapon, her boyfriend, and he hated using "lover," claiming it sounded like one of those cheesy romance novels Liz and Tsubaki liked to read.

Maka bit her lip, unwilling and unsure of how to answer him. His tone was gentle and encouraging; he wasn't forcing her to tell him what was wrong. He was just letting her know that he was concerned, that he wanted to make it better, and if he couldn't…he'd do everything he could to help.

She felt his lips on her neck again, and she swallowed hard. "If you had kids…do you think they'd get insanity from you?"

He stilled behind her. He didn't tense up or move to roll away, he just didn't move at all. Maka didn't know if she should take this as a good sign or fear the worst. Soul could be hard to read a lot of the time, especially when she was upset over something. It bothered her that he could read her so easily, but she couldn't decipher anything he said or did. And right now, she really, really needed to know if his stillness was as frightening as it seemed.

She nearly screamed when, after what seemed like an eternity, he sighed heavily. "I don't know…it's a possibility, I guess. Won't know unless I talk to Stein or Nygus." He sounded like someone who thought about the subject often, like a parent-to-be who has a genetic disease or disorder that their child could inherit from them. Maka wondered if he'd been thinking about it since they started fooling around, then sleeping together, or if he'd been thinking about it since he was infected with insanity. It wasn't really a disease, nor was it a disorder…it was…it was unlike anything anyone had ever encountered. Maybe that was what was so scary about it. There was no known treatment or cure. Soul hadn't lost it yet because, in spite of being a hormonal teenager (and now a hormonal young man), he was mentally stable and his soul was strong in addition to his being very healthy. A baby, though, was fragile. Would a baby survive insanity, or…?

Feeling suddenly overwhelmed, Maka rolled over in his arms and clung to her partner, silent sobs wracking her small frame.

Soul said nothing. Hugging her close, he rubbed her back, kissing her face over and over again while he waited for her to calm down. "We'll figure something out, Maka," he murmured between kisses when her sobs reduced to the occasional hiccup. "Let's be happy about this and worry about the insanity later, okay?" He cracked a tired, but genuinely happy grin, which brightened when she finally managed a laugh upon seeing his expression.

Through her tears, Maka smiled, closing her eyes when Soul reached down between them to brush the backs of his fingers over her still-flat stomach. "Yeah, okay."

* * *

**23 December 2009**

Hey everyone, my apologies for the wait. As a Christmas present and an apology, here are Themes 11 and 12. I hope you like them, and I hope you have a happy and safe holiday season! Happy New Year!


	13. 13: Misfortune

**Theme:** 13, Misfortune  
**Wordcount:** 1238  
**Rating:** PG/T  
**Warnings:** discussion of Maka being on her period is all I can think of  
**Notes:** Maka hasn't been having a good week. Luckily, she has Soul, and that's some damn good medicine if you ask me.

Maka Albarn isn't a superstitious sort of person. She lives with a black cat and has crossed paths with several white cats (because there _are_ folks who believe white cats are unlucky), she's walked under more ladders than most people would care to admit, and she's sure she's broken more than a few mirrors while fighting kishin. Despite that, she doesn't believe in superstition. Luck is luck. There's nothing "good" or "bad" about it – and to that end, Friday the 13th is just another date on the calendar and the number 13 itself is actually her favorite number. Though this mindset sounds rather like that of her weapon, Maka has always believed that things happen for a reason. All that's left to do is appreciate what's good in life and try to learn whatever lesson the bad parts offer.

However, after a week of waking up on the wrong side of the bed, tripping over air and starting her period (among other horrible things), Maka was beginning to reconsider her position on the soapbox. All she wanted to do was stay home and hide from the world. Never mind the fact that Stein-hakase had a test scheduled for tomorrow, nor that she usually spent her Sundays out with Soul and their friends, she just didn't want to leave the warmth, safety, and relative comfort of her bed. If Soul wanted to go out, he could go by himself – unless he wanted the dictionary embedded in his brain, that is.

The familiar knock sounded on her door, and Maka whimpered, pulling her blankets up over her head in a pathetic attempt to hide from her partner. "Go away, Soul," she warned, sounding closer to tears than she originally thought she would. She hoped he would get the picture and leave her alone. At the same time, though, she wanted him to stay.

Silence was her answer, followed by the gentle sound of Soul's sock-covered feet on the floor and the shift in the mattress as he crawled into bed with her, somehow knowing what way she was facing so that if she decided she was done hiding, they'd be facing one another. "I already told Tsubaki we probably wouldn't be joining them today," he murmured softly. He pulled her close without lifting the covers away from her and rested his forehead against hers through the fabric. "She knows you haven't had a good week."

Maka snorted, though it sounded more like a strangled sob. "That's an understatement," she grumbled.

Soul's shadow sighed. "Wanna talk about it?"

She shook her head fiercely, even though she new he couldn't see it. "No."

"Talking helps, you know," Soul fired back gently. "And you know as well as I do that we don't resonate very well when something's bothering you."

_Damn him and his logic,_ she wanted to scream, _damn him for always being right. Damn him for knowing me so well._ She clenched her eyes shut. _And damn him for knowing how to scold me without sounding like that's what he's doing._ At the same time, though, she was glad he scolded her the way he did. It was calm and cool, gentle, even, but direct and to-the-point, just like everything he did. That in and of itself was a comfort.

Still, Maka didn't want to talk about it, at least, she didn't want to talk to Soul about it. She wanted to talk to Tsubaki. She didn't have to worry about feeling – or even _being_ – uncool around the older girl.

Again, Maka shook her head. "You'll think I'm uncool," she argued, and winced. That was by far the most pathetic excuse she'd ever made.

The shadow on the other side of the covers snorted. "You? Uncool? As if." Soul tugged the covers away from her face, and the instant he saw her, he frowned. Maka wished she could just hide again; it was obvious that she'd spent a good part of the morning crying because of how crappy she felt, and she hated how weak it made her feel. "You're on your period. You're emotional and you feel like shit. But you're not uncool, Maka." He tucked her head under his chin and hugged her tightly. "I can't really do much about you being on your period, but I want to help anyway…just talk to me, okay?"

She nodded slightly, sucking in a shaky breath. "I just don't feel good…my stomach's been upset since…you know…and since a few days before it started, my left side's been hurting so bad I can't get comfortable no matter how I sit or lie down." Maka all but threw her arms around Soul then, pressing her face against his chest while he still held her. What self-control she still had was slipping away, making it harder and harder to keep herself from crying. "And it doesn't help that I've been crabby all week, nor that Black*Star _always _saw when I kept tripping over air and all the other clumsy moments I've been having, nor that we haven't found Crona yet, nor that Papa keeps lying about how much he loved me and Mama. If he really loved us he wouldn't have done what he did!

"I'm sick of it!" Maka whimpered. "I want it to stop!" She clung to him, still refusing to cry. She'd been crying since she woke up. She wasn't going to start up again.

The weight of his left arm on her right side left, and until his hand snuck under the covers and her night shirt to rest, palm-down against her stomach, Maka had no idea what he was up to. Her first reaction was to jerk away and reach for a book, but with the way her side still hurt, all she could do was glare up at him feebly. Soul just kissed her forehead, unfazed by her displeasure. "Just tell me where it hurts most."

Realization kicked in, and Maka blushed, suddenly realizing what Soul was trying to do – and noticing that he hadn't changed out of his pajamas. "You have to move…cuz I'm laying on the side that hurts…" she trailed off, both flustered and embarrassed.

Soul nodded, getting up just long enough to move to the other side of the bed and crawl under the covers behind her. Gently pulling her close, he wrapped his right arm around her, carefully placing his right hand over her stomach where she was hurting most. It felt a little strange to be laying in bed with her partner, and in a way that felt so…_intimate_. But, Maka thought, it wasn't a _bad_ sort of strange. It was actually kind of nice. And comforting.

And, she noticed, the pain was slowly fading away.

"Hey, Soul?"

The hairs on the back of her neck stood up a little and a shiver ran up and down her spine when he nuzzled her nape. "Hmm?"

Maka smiled softly, placing her hand over the one he had over her stomach, squeezing gently. "Thanks."

Soul nuzzled her neck again. "You're welcome."

* * *

**23 February 2010**

I HAS NEW LAPTOP!!! His name is Thor, and he is sexy. I love him. He makes working on my fics so much easier because he doesn't DIE when I'm trying to do shit. Because of him, it's now possible to post my updates! I just need to get through this last quarter of class and then SUMMER. I look forward to doing nothing but work...and sleep...and write...and spend time with my Regent.

Speaking of my girlfriend, Regent doesn't like me very much for this installment. I gave her diabetes. But she loves it (and me!) anyway because Soul and Maka are really cute even though they try to seem otherwise.

Thanks to everyone who has reviewed, faved, and added _Soul Resonance_ to their alerts. I can't tell you how much I appreciate it. Thank you!


	14. 14: Smile

**Theme:** 14, Smile  
**Wordcount:** 1138  
**Rating:** G/K  
**Warnings:** None...Soul's being a bit of a hardass, but he's lovable that way.  
**Notes:** Soul knows how to get Maka to smile even when she's not exactly happy.

Her smile was fake.

Soul's perpetual scowl hardened into an annoyed frown. Something was bothering her. And, as usual, she wasn't telling anyone (him) what had upset her and pretending that nothing was wrong. It made him want to grab her by the shoulders and shake her until she told him what was wrong or until her head rolled off her shoulders. He wouldn't do that, though. It wasn't cool to assault anyone, especially not his meister...who was also a girl. Soul didn't hit girls. That was more than uncool. It was...despicable. It was one thing for a girl to hit a guy (cuz guys did deserve it sometimes), but it was just plain wrong for a guy to hit a girl.

Looking around the crowded classroom, Soul knew he wouldn't get her to talk about it here. She'd set her jaw, frown at him, then assure their friends that yes, she was fine, that Soul was "just in one of his moods again." Past experience told him so. Past experience also told him that he would have to wait until he was able to catch her alone. That could be at any point in the day, though. It frustrated him to no end. Not for the first time, he wondered why the hell he'd decided to be her partner. _But_, he told himself (with extra emphasis on the "but" because it was a pretty important "but"), he'd ignored pretty much everyone _except _Maka at orientation. She was (and always would be) the only one cool enough to be his meister. He didn't think he'd be able to handle being anyone else's weapon. Everyone else had a tendency to drive him nuts after a while if Maka wasn't around.

Without warning, he stood up in the middle of Stein-hakase's lecture about the properties of kishin eggs and witches' souls and how they differed from human souls and what-fucking-have-you. It was something he rarely did, but he grabbed the boys' hall pass from the hook by the door and quickly disappeared into the hallway. The rest of the class (Maka included) had already assumed that he was going to the restroom. If he took long enough, though, he knew Stein-hakase would send Maka after him. Stein-hakase had already seen through him.

He'd been wandering the halls for fifteen minutes when Maka finally found him. "Good to know you're just out for a stroll and not lost or drowning because you fell in." she muttered Her tone was hard to place, as it sounded exasperated, annoyed, sad, and accusatory all at once. Though he wasn't looking at her, Soul knew she wanted him to react, whether she herself knew it or not. But he wouldn't, not in the way she wanted him to. He would wait her out first so that he would know her next move.

Maka darted in front of him, her pigtails seeming to stand up somewhat as she puffed up a little. "What is with you today?"

Soul leveled her with a flat stare. "You're faking. Again." He reached out and clamped his hand over her mouth when she began to protest. "It's not cool to lie to your partner, Maka." He removed his hand, but did not look or walk away. Instead, he fixed her with a firm glare that he only used with her. No one else was tough enough to hold this one for the full ten minutes Maka stood there, feebly glaring back, until she finally had to look away. Even after she looked away, Soul continued glaring. He didn't need words. He'd said enough already. As it was, Maka was already beginning to crack. Within the minute, Soul told himself, she'd spill the beans.

_Five..._he counted, ticking the seconds off in his head. _Four...three..._

Maka's hand darted out and gripped his tightly. She neither moved nor spoke for a moment after, then stepped forward and hugged him like she was scared to let go. Except she _was_ scared to let go.

The nightmares were haunting her again. It was almost like _Nightmare on Elm St._, only Freddie wasn't real and things far worse took his place.

Soul held her close, silent as he always was whenever he soothed her. Maka was peculiar like that. She internalized everything and faked happiness when she was a complete and utter mess inside. That was normal for kids their age. Soul was guilty of doing the same thing. When it came to scolding her or providing comfort, though, Maka needed silence. Words were...words. They didn't mean anything unless there were physical actions to back them up, and even then it was hard to get through to her. Soul refused to touch her when he was letting her know her behavior was unappreciated and only spoke when he knew his words would hit home. He held her, kissed her, and kept her close when he comforted her.

It helped that Maka was a cuddler by nature. She knew what he was up to when he did this, but that made it easier to get it out of her when she was upset. She wanted that physical reassurance so badly – from _him_, no one else – that she would eventually come around, therefore helping him to help her feel better.

"I'm here," he murmured, gently nuzzling her ear, "I'm okay."

He almost didn't hear her response, as it was muffled by the front of his shirt (which she'd fairly smushed her face into), but there was no mistaking her tone. "You'd better be," seemed to be the most appropriate translation in this case. It made him smile a little; only Maka – _his _Maka, _his_ meister – could say something like that.

They backed away just enough to be about to look each other in the eye without leaving the safety and comfort of one another's embrace. "You think you can make it through the day without faking?" He sneered, baring his sharp teeth.

After a moment, Maka nodded, then smiled back. "Yeah."

Soul stepped away from her, placing his hand on top of her head to ruffle her hair. "Good. Let's get back to class."

"Soul!" Maka swatted his hand away, but she laughed a little all the same. She pointed down the hallway toward their classroom. "Go."

He waved her off. "Yeah, yeah, whatever." He began walking in the direction of the classroom, slowing to allow Maka to catch up. At least he'd gotten her to smile.

* * *

**05 May 2010**

I really need to stop being lazy...but is it being lazy when I'm busting ass for school and going to work? Hmm.

This theme took forever to get started. I would start with one idea, then I'd come back to it and think, "No, that sucks," and then rinse, repeat. Then I got this. Even though I'm not too happy with the ending, I'm not going to mess with this any further. I hope you guys like it all the same. I'm going to get to work on Theme 15: Silence as soon as midterms are over. It's already Week 6 in the quarter. Finals are coming up in the 2nd week of June. Freaky shit. I can't believe the year has gone by so fast.

Okay anyway yes, here's Theme 14, Theme 15 is coming up soon, and I might have some stand-alone oneshots appearing every now and then. Thanks for reading!


	15. Chapter 15

**rapture has moved!**

Dear Readers,

In light of the recent vigilante movement here on , I have decided to relocate. These vigilantes seek to report and delete poorly-written stories and stories with questionable (mature) content. As some of my stories do contain explicit content, I would rather relocate than risk my stories being deleted by some pro-censorship fascist pig, or risk being banned.

You can now find me at archiveofourown [dot] org [slash] users [slash] rapturesrevenge. Everything, from story updates to new fics, will be posted here.

Archive of Our Own (AO3) is currently in beta. As of now, the only way to join is via invite. I signed up for an invite in October and received my invitation to join the site in December. So far, I really like the site. Should you choose to sign up for an invite, I hope you will like it, too.

This story, whether it is a oneshot or part of a multi-chapter fic, will remain here, untouched. Should the vigilante movement be found pointless and brought to an end, I might consider returning. Until then, I bed you all farewell, and I hope to see you again at AO3.

Yours,

rapture


End file.
